DESSALINES' HOUR
simply accompanied this early degeneration; in time we might regenerate back to a higher type, but it fatigues the brain to consider how long a time this might require. Is it not better to make an exchange of our virile qualities with a race of less stamina, but higher culture?"
"But," said Virginia, fighting the emotion, the shock with which his words inspired her, "did you not just say that you objected to mulattoes?"
"Ah, yes, that is true; I do object to the illegitimate, low-caste type. You must understand, Miss Moultrie, that according to existing circumstances mulattoes are in almost every case a class of illegitimates; if bred from the best blood of both races I see no reason why they should not be a grand people; a class strong, intelligent, and desirable to any nation … a class which would represent a bond uniting black and white, a mutual affiliation"—the euphonic words rolled out sonorously—"for our two races!"
The ringing voice, the black, inspired face, thrilled Virginia. The flowing rhetoric was like a chant, a paean, a prophecy. She knew little of these things; she had always thought of mulattoes as a wretched class, physically deficient, morally lacking, mentally freakish; also, she had a vague idea that they were hybrid. Dessalines frightened but excited her; prudence bade her stop his peroration, even while her inclination was all for hearing more.
"Why should we be an alien people?" pursued Dessalines, "herded by ourselves; classed, less through malice than ignorance, almost with the lower animals? Why should we be denied the privileges allowed to Indian, Oriental, Turk, or Slav? Are we not capable of
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